Trainwreck
by twitchytwain
Summary: Bonnie's life in Miami is one disaster after another but when she returns home for her sister's wedding, she falls in love with an old childhood friend. KENNETT
1. Bienvenido a Miami

**Title:** Trainwreck

 **Rating:** T-M

 **Summary** : Bonnie's life in Miami is one disaster after another but when she returns home for her sister's wedding, she falls in love with an old childhood friend.

* * *

Bonnie woke up in a pool of her own vomit and spat out the last of the bile. Running a tongue along the front of her teeth, she could still taste the last of the sour wine she'd consumed last night.

She prepared to slink out of bed but when she swung her legs to the side she bumped into something hard and upon opening her eyes, discovered it to be the back of a car seat. Presumably she had fallen asleep in the back seat of a car. Upon further investigation and decoding a number of clues from a pair of strappy stilettoes on the floor, a purse with spilled contents and a pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging on a review mirror she learned that this was in fact her car.

Her head was ringing as she picked at red bits of vomit that had dried on the side of face. She sat still for a while trying to readjust to everything around her. Fisting her hair and hunching over, she felt another gag coming and wondered if she'd have enough time to crack the door open before decorating the floor with remnants of her stomach again but it was merely a dry gag. She heard the splashing of waves from afar and whipped her head around to see a sparkling marina from the back window.

The light hurt her eyes. What time was it and why the fuck was she sleeping in her damn car instead of the comfort of her bed or better yet, a man's bed? The memories came rushing back; the NBA player's party on the yacht that had quickly morphed into a pseudo sex party, the bumps of cocaine and shit loads of champagne and then the athlete who had taken her aside so he could fuck her in the backseat of her car.

She didn't remember his name but it didn't matter because they were all the same from the athletes to the rappers she encountered when they landed in town to shoot a music video or just to party. They promised to show her the world, promised to take care of her but all they did was leave just like her papa left her momma. The only time someone had actually done anything for her was that time that music producer put her in that rapper's music video where she got three seconds worth of screen time clad in a yellow bikini, lost in a throng of women all vying to be the main video vixen. Then there was the Chevy Impala Derek Hale bought her and the playboy bunny necklace he gave her that she still wore to this day. She climbed over to the driver's seat, her tight scuba dress with the front zipper riding up her thighs as she positioned herself behind the steering wheel.

She studied her face in the review mirror, fluffing her blonde hair to reveal the paw print tattoos riding the side of her neck and then bugging out her green eyes rimmed with dried blue mascara, checking the bags underneath them. When she looked out though the windscreen, she noticed a piece of red cloth stuck beneath one of the wipers. Leaning closer to the glass she noted the cloth to be her panties, the skimpy lacy ones she'd purchased at Victoria's Secret a month ago.

"Asshole" she cursed, her hands tightening around the steering wheel then she flung the door open to retrieve the evidence of her shame. The grey gravel was white hot under her bare feet ad the sun was burning holes in her back. Her hair stank, her dress reeked and she probably looked a fright to any onlookers but she was too sick to care. Climbing back into the car, she pulled piles of crumpled receipts from her purse, trying to find her car keys. Spilling the remainder of the contents onto the passenger seat, she sifted through shiny packets of condoms, coat-check stubs, business cards, party fliers, a hairbrush, a pack of cigarettes, tubes of lipstick and the rest of the junk.

"Shit." she spat. No car keys. Pulling a cigarette from the pack, she slipped into her mouth and fired it up with a lighter. She inhaled, let the smoke sit in her mouth, drew it in through her nose then puffed out her cheeks as she blew it out. Smoke swirled around the car, soaking into her hair. She reached into her purse to pluck out her cell phone but lost her grip on the thin, sleek metallic shell as it slipped between her clammy fingers dropping to the floor. She glanced around, patting the floor to feel for the phone and there under the brake pedal where the phone had slid, she found her car keys.

Slowly she pulled the '67 Chevy Impala out, its cherry-red paint gleaming in the sunlight. She needed to get back to her apartment and clean herself up. She sawed through traffic, past BMW's and Lamborghini's and raced the needle as her Chevy sped down palm tree lined streets.

..

When she arrived at her apartment, a pink eviction note was tacked to the centre of her of her front door. Bonnie looked around the hallway and snatched it off her door, crumbled it with her hand and tossed it on the floor. She unlocked the door and made her way into her tiny apartment which overlooked a tacky parking lot. Kicking through clothes and designer bags strewn on the floor, she made a beeline for the fridge and took out a six-pack, cracking open a bottle of beer and stopping to stare at the wedding invitation attached to the shell of the fridge. She took off the magnet and read the invitation again for the hundredth time, lifting it to her nose as she leaned against the door of the fridge. The place was decent enough with a sleeper couch, a large plasma TV, a double bed and a small kitchen but there was no privacy since everything was open plan. She sprinkled fish food into the fish bowl for her gold fish and ashed a cigarette into the cactus pot plant lining the window after taking in just three puffs and then she called Katherine, her best friend.

Katherine fashioned herself a model with a fake Colombian accent and legs up to her earlobes but it was a lie she sold well because she was a looker and the streets smarts she inherited as a Brooklyn native didn't hurt either. When Kat picked up after two rings she told Bonnie that she was at work promoting some new Vodka but that of course bonnie could crash at her place for a few days. Satisfied with the outcome, Bonnie took another swig from the bottle and pulled her dress over her head, exposing her tan lines and the small butterfly fly tattoo on the small of her back.

She brushed her teeth to rid her mouth of the sour taste of wine and Christ knows what else and jumped into the shower to clean the stranger's sticky sweat off her skin. As she scrubbed and moved around the shower, she felt something between her legs. Slowly putting a finger inside, she pulled out a condom and stared at it dumbly before stepping out of the shower and shutting off the faucet. She tied it off, tossed it in the toilet and flushed. She wasn't worried about clogging the toilet especially since her landlord was kicking her out. Padding toward her medicine cabinet, she plucked out a packet of morning after pills and threw it down her throat, chasing it down with the beer. It couldn't hurt to take one just in case some sucker sperm slipped into her but she didn't even want to think about what else could have slipped inside her during the process.

When she was done she slinked into a white blazer dress with a plunging neckline, sky high-heels and an abundant amount of gold jewellery, she gathered all her overpriced junk and tossed it into her Louis Vuitton luggage bag and wheeled it out of the apartment and into the elevator.

She didn't look back because she had no time for sentiments. She had made up her mind, she'd stay with Kat long enough to collect some cash and get out of town, at least for a little while.

..

Later that evening Kat and Bonnie went out to a club infamous for is Cuban beats, a celebrity DJ and celebrity clientele. They pushed past a flood of people and made their way to the VIP section. After a few drinks and some dancing Kat told her she was holding a bag and they went to the toilets to snort down a few lines.

"Why don't you sell your car?" Katherine asked, titling her head back after sniffing a long fat line.

"Sell my car?"

"Yeah then you can pay your rent."

"And how'd you propose I get around Miami without a car?"

"You can lease something"

"Derek Hale bought me that car." She cried, wrinkling her nose at Katherine. Derek played for the Miami Dolphins before getting traded off to the Cowboys after a winning streak. She truly believed that he loved her right up until she made the horrendous mistake of loving him more than he did her.

"Look, it's my sister's wedding so I'll probably skip town and gather my thoughts back home." Bonnie slapped the door open and they sauntered out back to the noise of the club.

"Were you going to attend your sister's wedding had your landlord not tossed you out?"

Bonnie glanced at Kat, the music swallowing her response. The roar of the crowd startled them both and when the crowd jostled, they pushed further trying to weave through the dancers and back to their privileged spot in the VIP.

"Ahh so that's the catalyst." Kat said, craning her neck to see above the heads of the revellers and Bonnie followed her line of sight.

"Tyler Lockwood." She smiled, looking at the wide receiver with the best hands in the team. He played for the Dolphins and made some darn good catches last season. He also happened to be a former lover even though three weeks of hook-ups didn't exactly qualify him as a boyfriend.

Nonetheless Bonnie knew she had found her mark for the evening.

..

ESPN played noiselessly on a large plasma TV in the background. It was morning and sunlight streamed through expansive windows, hitting her face. It burned like fire and stung like a bitch. She propped up on one elbow and clutched a snow-white sheet to her chest as she looked on the empty side of the bed where Tyler had slept. She scanned the room, her eyes darting to a lampshade in a corner where her black thong still hung before gliding over to an ice bucket containing a bottle of crystal covered with a napkin. Crawling out of bed with the sheet around her, she strode over to the table with the ice bucket and plucked out the bottle to check its contents. She swirled the bottle around, peered at the contents through its mouth, noting that there was one or two gulps felt at the bottom and emptied it in one gulp. She padded out of the room passing several framed awards in the hallway and found Tyler outside on the balcony making a phone call.

She waited in the cool interior of expansive the lounge and poured herself some scotch from the decanters lining the bar. When he finally padded back inside the house he gave a look that said _are you still here?_ Ignoring his cynicism,she gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek and smiled. He pulled back and reached for something in the pocket of his black sweatpants and handed it to her. Bonnie didn't need to look to know that it was a check but she was curious to know the amount. She looked down at the figures and noted the two thousand dollars scrawled in black ink. She kissed him again then strode to a nearby couch to find her clutch bag, slipping the check inside.

"That's it." Tyler said while she picked up her dress from last night.

"What do you mean that's it?" She glanced up, hands poised over the straps of her mini dress as she shimmied back into the silver fabric.

"That's the last check you're getting from me." He replied, grabbing bottled water from a silver leaf bowl on the table in-between them.

"This is like only the second check I've gotten from you like ever"

"So?" he looked up and unscrewed the top.

"I mean I've fucked you like how many times?"

"Oh I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that was buying your pussy."

"You know what I mean" Bonnie shook her head, gathering her hair up into a messy topknot.

"Just take the check." He fished her scandals out of a handful of clothes strewn across the floor and handed them to her.

Making her way toward the door, she glanced back over her shoulder and shot him a big smile, "See you around."

"Not likely." Tyler shrugged and closed the door in her face. She stood outside his door tempted to break down the wood, tear the check and throw it in his face but she was out of options and she needed the money.


	2. About the other night

Bonnie's eyes were bloodshot and she had to shield them from the sunlight as she left Tyler Lockwood's house. She padded along the long shell covered driveway using the balls of her feet because she feared the pain that might shoot up her legs if he dared to walk in her usual fashion.

When she got to her car she pulled open the glove compartment and retrieved a small bag of cocaine. She used the tip of her nail to scoop out a small bump, just big enough to help her function during the day and chased it down with a gulp of water from her bottle. After two more gulps from the bottle, she poured water in her hand and rinsed her armpits. Grabbing a hold of the review mirror, she leaned closer, looked at her haggard face and smiled.

"How the fuck are you, beautiful?"

Expelling a shaky breath, she forced her grin to widen and shook her head, an easy chuckle escaping her throat. She was so fucked up. Leaning over to retrieve her clutch bag from her passenger seat, she pulled out her mobile and a pack of cigarettes, checking her phone for any messages. There was a missed call from Isobelle, her former boss. She owned an agency and sent girls out to nightclubs for gigs as hostesses, bartenders and bottle service girls. Bonnie had worked for her a few times as a bottle service girl. The pay was standard but the tips were great and she'd made an average of a thousand dollars a night and then of course there were the perks of meeting professional athletes.

While she keyed in Isobelle's number, waiting for her to pick up, she lit up a cigarette and pulled a long drag. When Isobelle did pick up, she sounded hurried and the background was punctuated with the sound of shuffling papers, clicking keyboards and the ringing of distant telephones.

"It's Bonnie Bennett returning your call." She announced, rubbing the back of her neck and flexing her shoulders.

"Bonnie, are you free tonight? I have a girl who just bailed out on me." Isobelle didn't waste time on greetings.

"Yeah, what's the gig?" Bonnie asked, blowing smoke from the corner of her mouth.

"I need a bottle service girl for a party at Crush"

"Cool." Bonnie shrugged; she figured that one more check was a bonus before hightailing it out of town.

"Why don't you swing by to collect the uniform and the address?"

"I'll be there in twenty." She assured her and put out her cigarette. As she was pulling out of Tyler's driveway another car, a white Bugatti was pulling in. Bonnie swore that the blond in the driver's seat was a celebrity from some reality show but she didn't give it any further thought.

..

Isobelle's office was small but very modern with L shaped couches hugging the corners and a glass receptionist desk in the middle of the floor. The lady behind the desk was chewing a wad of gum and casually flipping through glossy pages of a magazine. Bonnie glanced up at the video walls baring the latest music videos as she approached the desk.

"I'm here to see Isobelle."

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked, toying with the ends of her brown hair. Either she was new or Bonnie had not been to see Isobelle in her office on a while.

"Yeah. Tell her Bonnie is here to see her." Bonnie responded, gesturing to the phone in the reception's hand. She could see Isobelle through the glass walls of her office as she lifted her hand to wave her in. Nodding to the receptionist, Bonnie strode into Isobelle's office which appeared to be even colder than the reception area but she didn't mind because her clammy skin welcomed the drop in temperature.

When Isobelle stood up and came around the desk, Bonnie's eyes jumped to the camel-toe produced by her white jumpsuit. She silently cringed, cleared her throat and diverted her gaze to the glossy magazine pictures hanging on the walls.

"Christ, you look like death warmed over." Isobelle offered, taking hold of Bonnie's pointed chin. Her eyes took in Bonnie's hazel eyes and the wide cheekbones that tapered into a determined chin.

"Thanks." She shook her head and pulled back from Isobelle's touch. She turned around, giving Bonnie her back and rooted around in her bag. When she spun back around, she held a pink pill in her hand.

"Here, a little something to help you sleep."

Bonnie puckered her forehead, starring at the pill in Isobelle's hand "I don't know, I'm just tired and I don't think I need-"

"Bullshit, you're tweaking." Isobelle rolled her eyes, "take it. This will put that sparkle right back in your eyes."

"Thanks." Bonnie said, holding out her hand and Isobelle slapped the pill on her palm.

"Just make sure you're at work by eight p.m sharp."

"Yes mam."

"You know why I like you?"

"You like me?"

"Because you roll with the punches. Look at you, twenty three, cute as a button but still trying to land that baller who can take care of you. It's fucked up what Derek Hale did to you but you need to start taking care of yourself." She pointed, wagging her finger at Bonnie before handing her a parcel with the company's logo.

..

When Bonnie returned to her car, she rifled through the paper bag and pulled out a small French apron with a frilly trim, a pair of lace topped black stockings, a garter belt, a black lace bra and matching thongs. Chuckling, she stuffed them bag in the bag and started the engine.

..

"Why don't you use some of the cash that Ty gave you to cover your rent?" Katherine asked as she pulled on her jeans. She patted her pockets, looking like she was trying to find something.

"Because I owe three months' worth of rent and the money that Ty gave me won't cover that." Bonnie responded from behind the laptop. She glanced over the edge of the screen to look at Katherine and then diverted her eyes back to the monitor. Isobelle had been right about the pill. It had put her right to sleep the minute she entered Katherine's apartment. She'd slept a full five hours before being woken up by Kat when she returned from work.

"It will however cover my flight home and maybe a return ticket." She quickly added and snapped her fingers trying to get Kat's attention.

"What?"

"I need your credit card number."

"What for?" Kat raised her eyebrows, hands on her hips.

"Because I'm booking a flight home and I can't use mine because my credit is shot to shit." Bonnie tapped her foot on the floor, impatiently waiting for Katherine to hand her the credit card. With a sigh, Kat took out her wallet and pulled out the plastic, handing it to Bonnie.

"I'll pay you back." She promised, looking at the card.

"When Tyler's check has cleared?" Kat raised another questioning brow and returned to searching her pockets again.

"No from the tips tonight." Bonnie scooted in her chair, hunching over the keyboard and flexing her fingers, "Isobelle called. I'm working bottle service at Crush." She explained, shooting Kat a quick glance.

Finally finding what she had been looking for, Katherine waved a small bag of weed at Bonnie and smiled "Hmm…good luck."

..

"Fancy running into you here."

Bonnie whipped her head around to find Silas, a basketball player from the Miami Heat. He seemed taller in person, broader too judging by the way his t-shirt clung around his shoulders. She'd seen a few of his commercials and heard about his endorsement deals with Nike but seeing him this close was unnerving and thrilling at the same time. Her eyes trailed over his form, savouring the look of his muscles underneath his shirt.

"Uh…yeah, how about that?" she tucked a hair behind her ear, her pulse pounding in her throat. She had no idea what he was talking about or where he was going with it because they had never met before but perhaps having Silas, mistake her for a friend he was very familiar with was a good thing.

"Where're you parked?" he lowered his face and murmured against her ear.

Pulling back, she licked her lips and tossed her hair back "Aren't you the curious kitty cat?"

"You don't remember me do you?" he smiled and brought his glass to his lips as his eyes glittered under the lights.

"Of course I know who you are. You're Silas, the best damn point guard in the Heat." She realized that she wasn't exactly answering his question but she wasn't really sure what he meant by her not remembering him but it was a game she was willing to play for now because after all this was Silas Grant.

"You believe all that hype?" his eyes travelled down her body, lingering on her breasts and the delicate black lace bra before drifting back to her face.

"Nothing but the truth." She raised her chin, giving him a wink.

"You remember last night, Jesse's party on the boat or were you too faded?" he reached out and traced a finger down the arm. Goose bumps rose across her skin, she didn't like where this was going.

Her heart drummed a rhythm against her chest but she schooled her features and replied coolly "Oh, yeah the NBA party."

"So you do remember" he gave her a humourless chuckle.

"Yeah." She croaked back her own chuckle.

"You were great last night." He took her elbow and pulled her closer to him. When she felt his other arm drape around her waist, she recoiled, feeling dirty in her own skin.

"Thanks."

"So how about it, where you parked?" he addressed the question to her but his eyes were scanning the room before settling back to her.

"I'm working" she pulled back, a smile still cemented on her lips.

"How much are you making tonight?"

"No."

"I haven't said anything"

"I know what you're thinking and the answer's no."

"Come on, hang up your dancing shoes and that tacky tray you're toting around. I'll make it worth your while" His hand came around her ass to grope it. The thought of having been too drunk to even have consensual sex with him crossed her mind but she pushed it out of her thoughts and focused on the present and the present was that his hand was groping her ass like he owned it.

Gently, she pushed him off and smiled, walking away from him "Bye Silas."

"Two thousand." He called, raising his voice to be heard over the thumping hip hop music.

Bonnie stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around to face him.

..

Katherine pinched Bonnie's cheek to wake her up when that didn't work; she yanked the blankets off her and gave her buttocks three firm slaps prompting Bonnie to wake up.

"Good, you're still alive. Come on, get up or you'll miss your flight"

"Hmm…" she rolled over, scrambling to her feet.

"What time did you get in last night?" Katherine walked back to the kitchen and picked up two coffee mugs from the counter, handing one to Bonnie.

"You were fast asleep ha? I guess the weed helped." Chuckling, Bonnie blew into the cup and took a sip.

"How was the gig, you make money?" her friend asked, glancing over her shoulder as she made her ay to a cluttered couch. She tossed aside a few magazines and settled down in front of an open laptop.

"No. I left early." Bonnie responded quietly, chewing on her bottom lip.

Curious, Katherine looked up from the screen and knitted her brows "Why?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Bonnie clichéd her jaw, her gaze dipping back to her coffee.

"Shit."

"What?" Bonnie shot a slack-jawed Katherine a look as she slowly began to approach her on the couch.

"It says here that some girl tossed a drink in Silas Grant's face last night."

"Really." Bonnie cocked an eyebrow, wetting her lips.

"Yeah. I can't say the guy doesn't deserve it. He's a first grade asshole."

She was hovering over Katherine now as she said, "I thought you liked him."

"Hey, if my best friend has something against the guy then I have something against the guy"

"What are you talking about?"

Katherine turned the laptop and showed Bonnie the screen. Pictures of her and Silas from the club peppered the monitor. He looked shocked in one picture, jaw slack with vodka running down his face and Bonnie nearby wearing a big smile.

"You wanna talk about it?" Katherine asked casually closing the laptop.

"No."

"Ok, whenever you're ready."

..

The plane hit turbulence just before it landed. Bonnie held onto the arm rest, white knuckled hands gripping the blue leather until her red nails sank into its hide. She loved to travel but she hated this part, the surge in her belly and the clenching of her wheezing chest. Feverishly she gulped down the last of her dirty martini and squeezed her eyes shut as if this would help her momentary escape from the shuddering plane.

..


End file.
